


Nobody's Dirty Business How My Baby Treats Me

by sadomochi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Masochism, Riding Crops, Roleplay, Slut Shaming, SubObi Week, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadomochi/pseuds/sadomochi
Summary: Obi-Wan is punished by Admiral Skywalker for disobeying orders.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130
Collections: SubObi Weeks





	Nobody's Dirty Business How My Baby Treats Me

Anakin looks like sin incarnate, done up in full Republic uniform. The rugged look of his scarred face and messy hair is mismatched with the pristine garment, the contrast making Anakin look somehow wrong, indecent. 

The olive green fabric complements Anakin's tanned skin tone, the leather belt cinching the waist showing off his figure and making his shoulders look even broader. 

Obi-Wan shivers as Anakin prowls around the dimly lit room like a predator. Anakin's leather-clad fingers play with the riding crop he is holding, the movement so sensual that Obi-Wan has to force himself not to stare. 

“Kenobi!” Anakin barks. There is venom in his voice but he can't quite manage to hide his amusement. “Tell me why you are here.” 

“Because I disobeyed you orders, Sir.”

The crop smacks down on Anakin's opposite palm, a warning. “And what were your orders, soldier?” he hisses. 

“To not lust over my fellow soldier, Sir,” Obi-Wan muttered, averting his eyes. 

“That's right, soldier. I saw the way you were looking at Commander Cody earlier. You looked like you wanted to kriffing devour him. You were thinking about him fucking you weren't you?” Anakin comes to a halt in front of Obi-Wan, staring him down. 

“Yes, Sir,” Obi-Wan swallows, “I'm sorry, Sir.” He can't keep the blush off his face now. 

“Kriffing slut,” Anakin spits, “you'd let anyone on this ship fuck you. But unfortunately, you don't have any say in it,” Anakin slaps the riding crop hard against his shiny leather boot, the noise making Obi-Wan flinch, “only I do. And if Cody ever gets to fuck you it will be because I ordered him to do so. Is that clear, soldier?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” Anakin purrs, turning on his heel and sitting down in a chair across from Obi-Wan. “Kneel,” he says, voice casual because he knows Obi-Wan is going to obey. 

Obi-Wan comes closer and sinks down in front of Anakin. When Obi-Wan had agreed to this little game he'd had no idea that Anakin would take on the role of the sadistic Admiral so well. The sight of Anakin sitting before him is stunning. 

Anakin is leaning back in the chair, elbows on the armrests with gloved fingers steepled. One of his ankles is resting on the opposite knee in a mocking imitation of the way Obi-Wan prefers to sit. The posture is nothing like that of an actual military officer but it exudes confidence and arrogance, the traits coming so naturally to Anakin. This is not a man letting his guard down in front of him, Obi-Wan thinks, this is a man who knows how utterly in control he is. 

Anakin tilts his head when he notices Obi-Wan's staring, his eyes glittering with mirth. He knows exactly how good he looks and what it's doing to Obi-Wan, whose Clones obey their Jedi General without question. Obi-Wan has been forced by the War into this position of command, and the fact that he relishes in submitting is a secret he can only share with his former Padawan. 

“Stop drooling over me an come closer. Hands behind your back, soldier.”  
On his knees, Obi-Wan shuffles forward. Clasping his hands behind his back makes his chest feel oddly exposed, so he hangs his head in an attempt to cover himself at least somewhat. His eyes are glued to the shiny blackness of Anakin's boot, hugging his strong calves perfectly. 

“Look at me.”

Obi-Wan jerks his head up. He must look a mess, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, and worst of all, cock already half hard in his pants just from seeing Anakin like this. 

“That's a good boy,” Anakin whispers as he leans forward, taking up the riding crop again. 

The crop is slid sensually up the side of Obi-Wan's neck, drawing out a breathy moan and having Obi-Wan expose his neck for more. The leather reaches Obi-Wan's cheek and caresses it. Obi-Wan is readying himself for the sting of a slap, tensed, but it doesn't come. 

Instead, Anakin strokes the crop against Obi-Wan's other cheek, seemingly just enjoying the visual of Obi-Wan wound up and waiting for pain, eyes closed, lips parted and trembling just enough for Anakin to notice. 

Anakin guides the crop all the way up from the dip between Obi-Wan's collarbones to his chin, wordlessly ordering Obi-Wan to lift his head against the slight pressure. 

“Looks like you're waiting to get punished, soldier,” Anakin drawls, tapping the crop gently up under Obi-Wan's chin. “Is that what you want, hmm? For me to hurt you?”

“Yes, Sir.” Obi-Wan's voice is a whisper. He wants it so bad and Anakin loves making him admit it. Enjoys seeing Obi-Wan struggle against his own desire, shame battling lust. 

“Oh, but you would enjoy that, wouldn't you? A filthy slut like you gets off on being in pain.” The crop slaps down on Obi-Wan's cheek just once, with immaculate precision and the noise Obi-Wan makes is pathetic. A shocked little thing of a gasp with his blue eyes opening to plead with his Admiral. 

“Tell me how much you want me to punish you,” the command is growled out, making Obi-Wan tremble on his knees. 

Obi-Wan struggles to say it, has to heave in a few deep breaths before rasping out, voice ragged, “Please, Sir, I want it so bad. I deserve it, for disobeying your orders. Please punish me.”

Anakin huffs out a laugh, the cruelty in his face almost too striking to be just an act. “Look at you, what kind of pathetic soldier are you? Begging your Admiral on your knees to hurt you.”

Obi-Wan's high pitched gasp as the end of the crop brushes over his clothed cock is piercing in his own ears. He tenses up even more, back straightening out as much as it can.

“Look how hard you are already,” Anakin nudges Obi-Wan's hard cock with the crop, “filthy.”

“I'm sorry, Sir, please I-” Obi-Wan is cut off by his own moan as Anakin brings the crop down on his cock.  
“Kriff, soldier, what the Hells is wrong with you?” At that, Obi-Wan feels the hotness of tears gather behind his eyes. 

Another sharp slap with the crop on his cheek has Obi-Wan whimpering again, the marks left behind making it look like he's blushing even harder. 

“How about this? Do you like this too?” And then Anakin has the sole of his boot pressed up against Obi-Wan's cock, the heel digging into his balls. Obi-Wan wails and sobs, pushing himself further into the painful stimulation. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Sir, ah-, I can't-, please-” Obi-wan is babbling, tears finally spilling over but he can't stop. The Admiral, Anakin is right, he really is a pathetic slut, shamelessly humping his superiors boot and moaning like a whore about it. 

“Kriff, you look so good like this, Master,” Anakin slips out of character for a second and when Obi-Wan dares to look into Anakin's eyes he can see some concern there. Obi-Wan's chest goes warm and tight and he gives a reassuring nod and the smallest hint of a smile to Anakin. 

Anakin picks up on it and slips right back into his role, grinning. “Now solider, where do you want me to use this first?” Anakin purrs, playing with the crop in his hands, “on your ass or on your cock?”

**Author's Note:**

> For day four of SubObi Week. I'm a bit late with this and kind of struggled to write it, hope you like it anyways.


End file.
